To Deal With Death
by chocolate-frog-fan
Summary: George makes a swap, a swap that could cost him everything, to get his twin back...
1. Chapter 1

Hello :D More fanfiction by me...

I want to say sorry about Mirrors, it sort of fizzled out, but it might come back, the other day I wrote a bit. This is another post-DH George fic, but has a **very different**plot :D

So, I hope you like...

Please, please, please Review. You will make me happpy, even if you're telling me it's rubbish.

Sorry it's short, I've written quite a bit, but the next place I could split it would make it a bit long... But, i'll upload more :D

PS. If you see this story on the Harry Potter fansite , under the username WeasleytwinsROCK, i'm not copying/being copied. It's me, I just want more readers...

So, yeah. Here goes...

*Runs and hides in cupboard...*

To Deal with Death

_All my nightmares escaped my head,_

_Bar the door,_

_Please don't let them in,_

_You were never supposed to leave:_

_Now my heads splitting at the seams and I don't know If I can_

~Welcome home – Radical Face~

The golden sun sank mockingly over the little village, the garden of The Burrow full to the brim with people.

It was the day of Fred Weasley's funeral.

George was scrumpled in a ball on the bed that had once been his twin's, face in the pillow. He couldn't bear to see his family and friends all dressed in black, mourning over Fred whilst bunches of white lilies surrounded the little garden. Fred hated flowers, and never, ever, wanted to wear black robes that so resembled his uniform again. The Weasleys all knew this, deep down, but none of them could bring themselves to say it. All of the family, except George, were talking to the people Fred had known so well, trying to comfort each other.

Comfort wasn't really going to help George. His heart had been torn in two, and there was no way of mending it...

Unless...

But that was impossible. No time-turners, no resurrection stone, no polyjuice potion. Fred wasn't coming back, and he was going to have to live with that fact.

Rolling over, he looked up at the explosion-stained ceiling. George hadn't slept for over two hours each night the week after Fred's death. He lay in bed, memories haunting him.

Every one, every single one had Fred in. And now his family were already trying to get him to move on. Not at all likely. He needed to get away, not just from the room he had shut himself in for a week solid, from his head, the memories, his tired, thinning body with bloodshot eyes and grey bags underneath.

He was going away.

It was a stupid idea. George had only managed to eat something each day after a family member would refuse to leave the room until he did. But then stupid ideas didn't really matter anymore. Nothing worse could happen.

Slowly, George got off the bed. The room was darkening rapidly as the sun set and he needed to be out before the family noticed he had gone. He wasn't going away for a long time, just long enough to clear his mind slightly, and get away from the increasingly irritating words of comfort from everyone.

His wand, some clothes and a sleeping bag; that was all he needed. Shoving them hastily into a backpack, George looked out the little window by his bed. The ceremony had finished long ago, but the Weasleys, Harry, Hermione, Lee Jordan, Alicia Spinnet, Angelina Johnson and Verity remained, half-heartedly clearing away the empty mugs.

Thankfully, the Weasleys had still not fixed the apparation blocking charm that had been broken when Death Eaters raided the house, enabling anyone to apparate freely into the house, not that it really mattered anymore. Evil had been destroyed, meaning it was just the start of the nightmares for George.

The view of his family made George remember something. Hastily he took out a quill and scribbled:

_Everyone,_

_I'm going away for a few days. I need some – well – space. Don't bother worrying about me. I'll be fine, probably. _

_George_

Swinging the backpack over one shoulder, George took a last look out the window at his family and dropped the note on his bed. He would see them soon.

Closing his eyes and spinning on the spot, George disappeared from the room with a small _Crack._

Little did he know he may never see his family again...


	2. Chapter 2

Chaaaaapter 2 (:

Thanks so much for the reviews. They make me haaaappy :D *gives virtual cookies*

Anyway... I'm not going to write an essay before the chapter even starts... I do that too much

So please read, review, and make me happy (: Thanks (:

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><p>George appeared with an identical <em>crack, <em>standing on a bed of leaves in a forest. He had intended to apparate into somewhere quiet, so he wouldn't have to talk to anyone, and the forest on the outskirts of Ottery St Catchpole was the first place to come to mind.

The sky was a pale blue now, like watery ink, and George, tentless, was going to have to spend the night outside. He hadn't thought about that too well, but at least he had a sleeping bag. And whatever the floor was made of wasn't really going to change the restlessness that was sleep. He walked through the leaves for a minute or two, sighing.

Going away wasn't really going to change anything in the long term. Nothing would. But the fresh breeze cleared George's head a bit and he started to realise quite how much energy he had lost on two hours sleep a night.

Finding the softest part of the forest floor he could, he pulled out his sleeping bag and wrapped himself in it. He had once been for a walk in this forest with Fred. Molly had taken their Weasley's Wizard Wheezes product lists and burnt them all in the fire. Both of the twins had started yelling at her, and before she could yell back at them any longer, Fred and George had run out of the house and into to the forest, walking silently whilst scowling at every tree, plant and creature. But that was never going to happen again, and just the memories caused George's head to ache. Checking he really was deserted, George lay down, his head resting on his rucksack as his bloodshot eyes drooped in the darkness.

George's sleep, as always, was restless. Every leaf crunch made him panicky. So Voldemort had been destroyed, but there could still be death eaters in the shadows, and a man who hadn't eaten or slept properly for days wasn't at all hard to attack. Several times in the night he awoke, covered in sweat and breathing heavily. And he could always remember the dreams. When they weren't haunting memories, they were horrible, sick dreams. Bellatrix crucio-ing Fred, Fred screaming for mercy, and the final two words and a flash of green light. Several times, George had assumed he had woken up screaming, for Ginny would come running in, holding back tears as she helped her wreck of a brother off the bedroom floor onto which he had fallen and back into bed. But no-one could hear screams in a forest at the dead of night and Mrs Weasley wouldn't be there to secretly slip him a sleeping potion in a glass of water. He was going to have to get through this night. And many, many more.

Golden light streamed onto George's pale face; It was dawn. Birds sang as George, finally asleep, shifted uncomfortably on the forest floor. Opposite him, a girl sat on a stump, staring at the man with her cold, green eyes.

He blinked, the light and birdsong finally waking him. Sitting up, George noticed the girl. She was sitting on a tree stump that George had not noticed in the dark of the previous night, and looked quite calm, as though teenage girls often stared at people sleeping.

'So you're here?' she said, in a clear, slightly interested voice as she looked from George's bed-hair to his rucksack on the ground. 'I've been waiting for you, George Weasley.'

She knew his name.

She must be a witch; no-one in the muggle world knew his name. And she had a wand. That was often a bit of a giveaway.

George's heart sped up a little as he looked uneasily at the girl. She was young, no older than fifteen. Her dark hair fell down her back with ease and something about her face, her piercing green eyes, made her look not quite human. George sat up a little straighter. Now was not the time to speak to some freaky kid.

'Listen, I've got to go,' George said, noticing how hoarse his voice sounded; he had not spoken all week.

'Really?' She raised a dark eyebrow, studying George. 'I'd thought you'd have wanted to see me. I've been looking for you.'

He stared. Freaky kid just got freakier.

'Uh, really, I have to be, uh, somewhere,' George lied, attempting to stand up.

She laughed. A cold, icy laugh that made him shiver.

'No. Stay,' she said, half commanding, half menacing, and George could have sworn he felt himself being pushed down.

So freaky girl needed to tell him something. George stared at her. He didn't really have the energy to run if she tried to hurt him, and he didn't curse teenage girls, however evil they seemed. Heart racing, he looked down. He was a beater once. And she was about fourteen. He could surely defend himself. She was hardly a death eater, although her cold manner made him feel as though not to underestimate her power.

'What do you want from me then?' he asked finally.

She looked at him for a few seconds.

'I think you want something from me George. Something you lost. Something I can bring back.'

Something inside him snapped. Fred? Did she mean Fred?

As though she had read his mind, or maybe only his eyes, she nodded.

'How?' George asked, fear and excitement rising inside him. He didn't stop to think. She was a teenage girl. Not even fully trained, and nothing could bring Fred back, yet something about her made him think different.

She played with her hair for a second.

'A swap,' she said, looking him in the eye.

'What? What do you want?' George asked, excitement building.

'Something loved.' She replied, her eyes cold. George sighed. There was always a catch, but he didn't even need to think for a second to realise she was losing out on this deal. Fred was way more important than anything else in George's life. She was bound to take the shop, but that didn't matter if he got Fred back.

'Yeah,' George said, eyes lighting up. 'When can I swap?'

'Are you sure you want to do this?' she asked, her pale face still free of emotion.

George nodded. He was going to see Fred again. To hear his voice. To hear his laugh, and to laugh with him, free of the weight that he never thought would leave.

'Well if you're sure,' she said, and George missed the cold smirk on her face.

With a swish of her hair, the girl disappeared into a dark part of the forest, leaving George to wait. A single tear fell from his eyes. Fred was coming back.

Fred was coming back.

Realisation had only just started to dawn on George. He was getting back the life he thought he'd lost forever.

A few moments later, the girl had returned from the forest, now wearing a long, green cloak that swept the leaves beneath her. George was too excited to notice her smirk was even bigger.

'Well?' he said, looking over her shoulder as if Fred would suddenly appear.

She laughed again. 'Tonight. At midnight. He will return, and your swap will leave the Earth. Forever.'

She pulled her cloak over her head and disapparated, but this time, even George couldn't miss the cold, harsh laugh as her green eyes met his brown.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 :D

Thanks for the reviews, story subscriptions and favourites... :D They make me Happy

This chapter is kinda cheesy, but i'm never happy with what I write. So I hope you find like it better then I do...

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><p>Nothing, nothing in the world, could compare to the feeling George had now. He was getting Fred back, he was getting EVERYTHING back, and however tired and ill he felt didn't matter now. He needed to plan. For one, he didn't even know where Fred would be at midnight, and obviously the minute he arrived he was going to look for George. Then George could go back the The Burrow with him and they could be family again. Proper family.<p>

It was then George realised he was going to have to wait in the forest all day. Fred was going to be a surprise, and if the Weasleys saw George, they would know something had happened. Mourning men don't suddenly go ecstatic, unless they make a deal with death...

All the energy he had lost seemed to come back to him in a rush of seconds, and there was nothing except sanity to stop George from jumping around like a six-year old, and he didn't have much of that. It was an empty forest, the weird girl had disapparated, and right now there was nothing in front of him except the sun streaming through the trees...

Why not?

A little unsteady on his feet, after shutting himself in a room for what seemed like forever, George put a foot forward, breaking into a sprint. He was fast, Fred and him had always been. Wind in his face, George tore through the forest, sending wildlife fleeing as he anticipated the thought of getting his twin back.

After a long while of running, jumping and shrieking as though he was six again, George collapsed onto the leaves. He would never have done that; Fred would have teased him to extremes, but he wouldn't now. And he wasn't going to let embarrassment spoil his happiness.

The hours dragged by, as they always did when George was excited. It was weird, time only slowed down when he was waiting, or when he was stuck in a detention cleaning out frog guts for Snape. But this waiting wasn't going to end with a lecture on his behaviour, and Fred and him would not be returning to the Gryffindor common room with a pile of last minute homework ahead of them.

After what seemed like weeks or waiting, and making bubbles with his wand to pass the time, George looked up. The sky had finally decided to darken, and looking at the watch that he had recieved for his seventeenth birthday, the twin was told that there would only be three and a half long hours until Fred arrived. Jumping to his feet, George swung his bag over his shoulder, perhaps he could steal some stuff from the shop before that disappeared.

'_Crack.'_

George was standing in the luckily, almost deserted pub. Tom was out the back getting a drink for the only customer who sat at the bar with their back to him. Treading carefully, as not to attract any attention, he walked to the back door of the dimly lit pub and slipped out the door, shutting it before the lone customer could get a look of him.

After living in Diagon Alley for over a year, George tapped the bricks on the wall absently, his mind on far more important things. As the bricks spread apart, he looked down the street, it had changed so much since Fred and George had abandoned it and fled from the shop one evening. The shops and flats above them were halfway between destruction and repair, some abandoned for good and others already open and thriving, but Diagon Alley had still not gained the magical atmosphere back.

Legs moving faster, George hurried down the somewhat busy street, not stopping to look or talk, just wanting to speed time up a little.

'Hah!' he smirked, triumphant; Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was still standing, and the glass still in one piece. The twins' charms had obviously been too complex for those death eaters, and although the posters looked a little faded and old, there was a fair chance the inside of the shop still stood strong too.

Unlocking the door with a spell only he and Fred had know, George walked carefully into the shop. He had been right; it was dusty and smelt funny, but the posters, the products and the displays were almost untouched. The flat was another matter, but who cared? The shop was going to disappear within hours, and who needed paperwork anyway? Taking his bag off his shoulder again, George walked over to the nearest display and started shoving products in. He was not losing those, even if the shop was going. Actually, thinking of it, George decided he was going to need some clothes, and they could easily disappear. His feet strode up the familiar wooden steps right to the top of the shop, where from a small balcony, one could see everything going on. The door to the flat was hanging on one hinge. That was not the best of signs.

Paper.

A lot of paper.

So the Death Eaters thought that the twins would have their hiding place written on a sheet of paper and shoved in with order forms and price lists. Were they idiots? It was weird, they had searched the little flat so thoroughly yet not touched the products. Perhaps they had given up, finally realising that the Weasley twins were not stupid. The room was a sea of paper and as George walked through into the room that he and Fred had slept in, he noticed that several papers had been torn in anger. Half smirking, he threw open the wardrobe doors, grabbing anything that had any value to the twins.

A few minutes later, bag full of clothes, photos and plans for pranks George was retracing his steps back down the stairs, he didn't want to disappear with the shop, and it was getting seriously close to midnight.

Any minute now... Thought George, looking down at his watch.

'Three,'

George sighed happily, letting go of the past week

'Two,'

He snapped his eyes shut..

'One...'

There was a loud crack, quite like as though someone had apparated in his midst.

Slowly, George opened one eye.

Fred wasn't standing there, and the shop looked perfectly real.

His stomach couldn't have sunk any lower...

Resisting letting out a cry of despair, George closed his eyes and spun. Maybe, maybe Fred was at The Burrow, after all that was home...

'_Crack,'_

The man swallowed and took a big breath.

This was it.

Slowly opening one eye again, he looked through the darkness towards the garden of The Burrow. Eyes adjusting to the lack of light, he noticed a figure standing at the gate...

A tall, ginger figure.

One identical to George.

He had never run faster. Heart skipping one thousand beats, George practically flew to his twin, who was standing, arms wide open, waiting with a grin on his face and tears rolling down his freckled cheeks.

'Fred. Fred. Fred.' George sobbed, clinging to his twin like a child, sobbing into his hair whilst trying to look at every inch of the man he had once thought dead.

'Whoa,' Fred grinned, wiping a tear from his own cheek as his twin clinged to him, still refusing to let go.'

'Never, never, ever do that again Fred,' George stammered, shaking onto Fred's shoulder.

'I won't,' Fred said, smiling at George's tears of happiness. 'I promise.'


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 :D

Sorry for the late-ish update - I was away over the weekend.

Chapters might take a little longer to update now - this is all i've written so far and with School and the rest of the internet, I'm often distracted from writing.

Also. Disclamer: All characters belong to JK. Rowling the awesome. Except Freaky-girl. She's mine :P

Yes. My disclamer is 4 chapters late. I'm extreeeemly forgetful...

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><p>The two identical figures walked up to the house in the darkness, arms around each other. George was still shaking, tears leaking from his eyes. Reaching the house, Fred pushed the back door open and the twins slipped in. The house was dark and quiet, it's inhabitants in bed.<p>

'C'mon,' Fred grinned, making his way to the rickety wooden stairs. His twin hesitated, wanting to keep Fred to himself a little longer, they were twins after all. But seeing his eager face, he gave up and followed, not worrying about the large amount of noise they were causing.

'Heck, Mum's gonna be a wreck,' Fred sighed as he rapped on the door.

George snorted, chuckling a little as he tapped his foot impatiently on the floor.

'Where is she?' he asked, pushing the door open. Their mother usually woke at the quietest sound...

'I'm going in,' said Fred impatiently, lighting his wand and walking into the dark room, floorboards creaking.

'George?'

'Mhm,' came a quiet reply from right behind, George had followed Fred in.

'Where's Mum and Dad?'

Both twins pointed their wands at their parents bed. The covers were crumpled, and the pillows even felt slightly warm, but Molly and Arthur were not in the room.

'This is weird, I don't like this,' Fred said uneasily, returning from his check of the bathroom. 'They don't just go out in the middle of the night...'

'Let's wake Ginny. Or Ron, or Percy,' George suggested, looking round in the darkness as though expecting them to appear.

'Okay,' Fred whispered and not bothering to keep quiet anymore, yelled through the house. 'RON? GINNY? PERCE? GET DOWN HERE...'

But the shouts only echoed emptily through the house.

Running up and down the stairs, the twins checked each bedroom in turn, only to find them in the same state as their parents'.

'What's going on?' Fred whispered, his eyes wide and face white. 'People don't just disappear...'

Realisation fell like a ton of bricks in George's stomach as he looked at his twin, not meeting his eyes.

'What?' said Fred, seeing his expression. 'George, what do you know?'

His voice was soft, yet suspicious as he looked at his twin.

'Well...,' George began, staring at his feet. 'Fred... this was an accident... but... well,'

'What?' Fred said, now more harsh, impatient even.

'To get you... I uh... had to kinda do a swap...'

Something in Fred Weasley's mind clicked.

'WHAT?' he yelled, having to restrain himself from hitting George. 'YOU SWAPPED THE ENTIRE FAMILY. FOR ME?'

George gulped, looking at the floor as new tears formed in his eyes. How could he be so stupid?

'YOU IDIOT, GEORGE FABIAN WEASLEY, YOU SELFISH PIG,'

'I... I didn't mean it,' he tried to reply.

'YOU KNEW WHAT YOU WERE DOING. AND YOU JUST KILLED SEVEN PEOPLE TO GET ME BACK. IT'S NOT SUPPOSED TO BE LIKE THAT,' Fred continued to yell, glaring at his twin.

'No, Fred, it's not like that, it was an accident...' George trailed off.

Fred raised an eyebrow. 'Well, I'll be in my room.' He said coldly. 'If you can manage without me...' and he walked into the twins' room, slamming the door behind him.

George dissolved into tears. It was an accident. He'd been stupid, so stupid, and now he had no family except a twin who'd locked himself in his bedroom. Shaking, he slumped against the door hugging his knees like a child. Fred was most defintly on the other side doing the same, except fuming with anger, or throwing things, but the silence except for his own stifled sobs gave him the impression Fred was doing the first.

Not even trying to communicate with Fred when he was this angry, George stayed slumped against the door as the hours snailed by. Maybe he could talk to his twin once he had calmed down. It was scary seeing Fred so angry, George couldn't help but hate it when Fred yelled at other people, but when the anger was directed at him, it was a thousand times worse. What made it harder was the fact he could see Fred's reason; he had been an idiot, and in Fred's words, a selfish pig. How on Earth had he not realised that he was going to give up his entire family for his twin?

Around six in the morning, George, half asleep, tousle haired and red eyed from crying, knocked quietly on the door.

'Fred,' he started, 'Fred, please listen to me. You were right. I'm an idiot, but it was an accident, I swear...'

He knew Fred was in there, awake and listening, but no response came. But that's what he expected; the ignoring treatment. Fred had done it to Angelina for ages after splitting up with her, refusing to listen to her apologies. This too could go on for weeks. Forever. The family wasn't coming back, and Fred was staying. What if he never forgave George?

Sick at the thought he picked himself up and made his way downstairs, the morning light now filling each room in turn. The kitchen seemed wrong so desolate. There was no Molly frying eggs, no Arthur rushing to work, no Ron to run the family clean out of food. Looking sadly around the room he pulled a mug out of the cupboard and started to make a cup of tea for Fred. He knew Fred wouldn't drink it, but Fred would be even more angry, if that was possible, knowing George hadn't even bothered to think of him anymore.

A sharp tap at the door caused George to jump, spilling milk over the worktop.

'What?' he asked opening the door a little too fast to find an angry, equally startled Fleur.

'I would like to know wheere my 'usband eez,'

Damn. Not just Fred, but now Fleur, who would obviously be followed by Harry and Hermione. How the heck d'you explain to someone that you swapped their husband for your twin. He hadn't thought of that.

'The idiot did a swap, me for the whole family,' came Fred's voice before George had a chance to make some excuse.

'Fred!' Fleur screamed, shrieking and pointing at him. 'C'est impossible, you are, you are dead.'

'Not anymore,' said Fred darkly, still glaring at George.

'But 'ow, and wheeere is William?' She replied, gaping from twin to twin.

Fred looked at Fleur and nodded at George..

'NO!' she screamed ''OW DARE YOU,' she advanced on George, 'YOU 'AVE KILLED MY 'USBAND,' and furious tears flying from her eyes, she aimed a slap right at George's face, punching every inch of him. He would have backed off, fought back even, but he deserved this. He had not only killed the family, but Fleur's husband, Harry's girlfriend and Hermione's boyfriend. But before Fleur could hurt him any further, Fred's hands gripped on George's shoulders and pulled him away from the woman's reach.

'He might be a selfish idiot,' he snarled at Fleur, 'but it was an accident, he wasn't thinking. And you DO NOT slap my twin,'

'FINE,' Fleur screeched, slamming the door and storming down the path, apparating once she reached the gate.

'Fred?' George asked tentatively, rubbing his red cheek; that woman could hit hard.

'Yeah,' Fred replied finally, pulling a book off a shelf.

'I'm sorry,' George sighed, his head hung.

' 's ok, ' Fred replied, looking sadly at his brother. 'I would have done the same if I hadn't been thinking either.'

'What, you believe me?' George replied, stunned.

'Yes,' Fred said, opening the book and sitting at the table opposite George. 'You wouldn't lie to me George, and I'd know anyway, we're twins. Remember?'

A tear fell from George's eye onto his swollen cheek. 'Thanks,' he muttered.

Fred smiled, flicking through the book. 'The whole of magical injuries, yet there's nothing in here on being slapped by a veela... Stupid really, 'cause that must really hurt.'

Dropping the book on the floor, Fred opened the cupboards in turn, before finding a small bottle which he opened and poured onto George's face to ease the stinging.

The twins sat in silence, drinking tea. George stared at Fred. In the last 24 hours he had jumped from so many emotions, from happiness to anger to confusion, and now he finally had Fred back, and Fred was speaking to him, but everything felt wrong. Feeling as though he was underwater, the twin shook his head vigorously, as though trying to wake up from a very confusing dream, but this was real. Fred was actually back, and the Weasleys were actually dead.

Breaking the long silence, Fred spoke.

'So what exactly happened? 'Cause you can't just bring people back to life without a consequence and you've proved that pretty well. So how did you, you know, swap me?'

George stirred his half-empty mug nervously. This was going to be embarrassing. Looking back, he had no clue how he had been idiotic enough to trust that girl. People don't just appear by your side and know your name for no reason. And she did seem pretty creepy. How the heck did she trick him anyway?

George explained everything that had happened heavily, straining his memory to remember the exact words of the girl, which Fred seemed very concerned to know. As he finished his story, his eyes followed Fred's quill moving across the parchment. For some reason George could not see, Fred had chosen to write this all down, and wanted everything word for word.

Placing his quill on the table and rolling up the parchment, Fred stood up, his twin still at the table.

'We need to plan George,'

'Plan?'

His mind was blank. Plan for what? A plan to avoid Fleur might be a good idea... But Fred's face was set. This was something serious.

'You know what I mean, George,' he replied, anger slipping back into his tone.

George raised a puzzled eyebrow. Sighing impatiently, Fred held up the parchment.

'To find freaky girl. And get you out of this mess,' he said, looking sternly at George. But George couldn't help noticing pity in his brown eyes as he continued. 'I can't just sit around all day not being dead, can I?'

George attempted a weak smile.

'So I have to help you plan your own death all over again?' He asked, feeling sick at the very words.

Fred looked at George, though his eyes were unfocused. He moved his head slowly up and down, showing his twin the nod he had been dreading.

'It'll be one last adventure George. One final goodbye.'


	5. Chapter 5

New chapter :D

I'm sorry they take a while to come out. It's term time, so I have not only school, and writers block, but stupid boring things like French homework and Geography essays ):

But half-term's coming up, so you might get some more then

The sun shone brightly over the old house, birds singing shamelessly in the trees. Inside the building Fred and George sat at a table, heads together, planning and plotting for one last time. After what seemed like hours at staring at the transcript of George's conversation with the creepy girl, Fred got up, sighing.

'For once, George, you've actually managed to come up with something that even I can't fix. There's no clue of her whereabouts, or who she is, and it would take a lifetime just to go and look for her...'

George sighed too, wracking his brains for some kind of clue.

'She apparated,' he said finally, 'she definitely apparated.'

'And you're sure she was under seventeen?' Fred asked again.

George nodded, but neither of them found this evidence helpful. They were just going in circles, trying to pick at one event for every tiny last detail without much luck.

'And where can we go from here?' Fred said, thinking out loud. 'The forest again, perhaps. Or the shop. After all, that's what you'd thought she'd take.'

George nodded slowly, not caring how much time it took to find the girl; he wanted the exact opposite. He wanted Fred to stay, but his twin was intent to go on a mission to die all over again. Fred waved his wand, summoning a couple of glasses of water and sat back down, noticing the reluctant look on his twin's face.

'What's up?'

George raised an eyebrow, looking at his twin. The answer to that was fairly obvious and Fred knew that.

Fred opened his mouth, as though to say something, but closed it again, looking intently at George instead.

'We have to check the forest anyway. It would be stupid not to.'

'I guess,' George replied slowly. 'But, how are we gonna check. Anyone could see you, and you're supposed to be, well, you know...' he trailed. Fred swallowed, unable to say the word either.

'Invisibility cloaks,' he suggested half-heartedly. 'There are some in the shop.'

'Or Harry's,' George added, 'his is bigger than ours, and the spells might have worn off ours...'

'Yeah,' said Fred, a hint of sarcasm in his tone. 'That'd be great. Hello Harry. I'm alive again, but your best friend is dead, and I need this cloak to travel the world with George to look for the deranged freak that did this.'

George glared at Fred, but he couldn't conceal the small smile that flicked across his face. He never thought he'd hear Fred joking again.

The next few days consisted of planning. Planning as George had never known it. He and Fred would always just dive into things, without a plan, hoping their own wits or sheer luck could help them out, but Fred insisted on doing it properly. And properly meant hours debating over ways for neither of the twins to get noticed. The Weasley family had now been gone for several days with no notice, and George wasn't keen on explaining why.

'We need to get into the ministry,' Fred said finally.

George jumped, looking up from the sheet of parchment he'd been falling asleep over. 'What?'

'The ministry,' Fred repeated, sucking his quill.

'And that is going to help us how?' George questioned, eyes narrowed slightly.

'D'you remember what Ron told us after his battle in the Department of Mysteries,' Fred said, not waiting for George's slow nod before continuing, 'and Sirius, and that veil, and that weird research stuff about death,' Fred was now leaping to his feet, pacing excitedly, a plan forming in his mind.

'Yeah, but...' George started, hating the fact Fred had come up with such a good idea 'You think she'll be_ there_?'

'Yeah, maybe,' he nodded. 'I mean, I have to go. We are going. Both of us.'

'I guess it's better than nothing,' George smiled slightly, watching Fred's now scribbling hand.

Planning to sneak into the ministry was hard, harder than the twins had thought. But Ron, Harry and Hermione had done it, and that spurred them on. There were people to get past, spells to learn, and a plan of what to do if they actually made it into the department of mysteries. George knew they would either have to do it at the dead of night, or in daytime concealed under an invisibility cloak. Neither idea seemed very promising to George, but then again, neither did the rest of the plan. They planned for hours at a time, in a very un-Weasley twin like way, checking every last detail. It seemed wrong, but Fred refused profusely to do it any other way.

'I'm not getting the Ministry involved in this,' he had told George, 'especially if Rita Skeeter finds out what happened. You've had enough trouble, and I don't think anyone else will understand what you did. Even I still think you're an idiot.'

Thankfully, there had been no more Fleur-like incidents. After several days of stressing Fleur would tell the world about George's swap, the twins discovered she had moved back to France with her parents. Hermione was still in Australia, looking for her parents, and miraculously, Harry had chosen to visit her and them; they had both left right after Fred's funeral, and by the time they had returned, the twins would be gone, searching the world for the girl.

Finally, one evening, the plan was finished. It wasn't perfect; there were plenty of fault-lines and possible slip-ups, but neither of the twins could bear being trapped in the house having to rely on each other's 'cooking' any longer, and Fred was starting to worry George would refuse to go ahead with the plan if they took any longer. So, invisibility cloaks and defensive spells ready, the twins flopped on the sofa in the living room.

Fred shuddered.

'Sorry. Had a flashback of you losing your ear and being laid here,' he answered to George's look of confusion. 'This sofa's seen a lot...'

'I know,' said George, looking at the tearing material and sagging seats. 'D'you remember when it was new, Fred? And we broke three springs within ten minutes?'

Fred laughed. 'How could I forget... And when Charlie spilt homemade blackcurrant juice on it and Mum went mental, because she forgot she could clean it with magic.'

George grinned, but followed with a frown. Everything in The Burrow had a lot of memories behind it. But every memory included Fred, and would haunt George if he ever had to let Fred go again.

A strange look shot across Fred's face, and he looked around the room, swallowing.

'What?' George asked, looking his twin in the eye.

'I'm never gonna sit on this sofa again. Or be in this house again, or see you again' Fred replied, swallowing back tears.

George's heart practically stopped as he tried to swallow back his own tears and failed.

'Sorry,' Fred said in a small voice. 'It just seems so weird and wrong. I'm not scared of dying, I'm scared of leaving you...'


	6. Chapter 6

Heeeey everyone :D

Another chapter... Sorry it takes so long... I'm easily distracted, and I always seem to forget about FF ):

I want to say a HUUGEEEE THANK-YOU for all the reviews, I really need them :) They keep me going :) I want to thank people individually, but I need to actually read the reviews again... So I will do next time *blushes*

Anyway, you're probably not even reading this, so whatever...

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><p>George shifted a little, the sunlight streaming onto his face. Opening a bleary eye, he looked around. He was still on the sofa in the living room, Fred asleep at the other end. Both of the twins had fallen asleep shortly after their conversation, tired of what seemed like years of planning. They were going to sneak into the ministry at night, daytime would be too obvious - practically asking for an arrest. But sneaking in at night meant a long day of waiting and being too nervous and cautious to do anything other than sitting around waiting for the hours to drag by.<p>

Fred stirred a little, mumbling in his sleep as George got off the sofa and looked around. The Burrow never seemed right this quiet and empty. It just didn't seem to work like that.

'Morning,'

George half looked up from his seat on the floor; Fred had woken and had flopped onto the rug opposite his twin.

'George, I was thinking we could go to the shop today,' Fred suggested, looking distantly out of the window.

'Why?' George looked out the window too, trying to work out if it was some part of the plan.

'Just to, you know, see it again.'

'Sure,' George replied, not looking up. Why didn't Fred seem to realise that every single cell of his twin was yelling to back down from the plan?

'You can't sit around moping all day,' Fred said tentatively. 'You'll turn into Ron.'

George couldn't help but smirk slightly as he summoned his and Fred's backpacks.

Finally, after what seemed like at least a week of waiting, the plan was starting to happen. The twins, unaware of the normal way to access the Ministry of Magic, were waiting in a London alleyway, hidden under a magically enlarged invisibility cloak watching the last of the muggle workers leave their offices drearily.

'D'you have a bad feeling about this?' George whispered, looking into the space that was probably Fred.

'Sure,' he replied casually, 'but when has anything gone right for us recently anyway...'

Streetlamps flickered on and glowed a pale orange, illuminating the dreary road and the telephone box that stood unnoticed by muggles as Fred and George edged carefully over to the box.

'Ouch,' Fred muttered as his twin stood on his foot. Telephone boxes were not spacious places... George cursed darkly as he recieved the nudge in the ribs in return.

'Thanks,' he said sarcastically, reaching out for the telephone receiver. Thankfully, Harry and Ron had let enough slip about the entrance for Fred and George to have a brief plan. It could have been more detailed, and, with the twins' skill, almost foolproof, but foolproof took all the adventure out of life and even Percy-like plans never went completely right.

Jabbing a finger at the buttons, Fred dialled the number over George's shoulder. 62442.

'Please state your name and purpose,' a cool female voice echoed in the box, making both twins jump even though they knew it was coming.

'Fred and George Weasley.' George replied to the telephone, unsure of how to hold it. 'Here for...' he swallowed, glancing over his shoulder at Fred. They couldn't just give away their plan, but before they could come up with a reason to get in, two badges appeared in a tray on the wall of the box. George picked up his own. It read: 'George Weasley, secret mission.' He grinned as he pinned it on; even the Ministry understood them sometimes.

With a jerk, the phone box descended slowly into the ground. The twins didn't say a word as the muggle London disappeared from sight and they were lead into blackness, but George could feel Fred's tense breathing on his shoulder, and he knew his was identical. Their pranks may have been major, but this wasn't a prank anymore. Slowly, the box descended further and little chinks of light appeared around the twins' invisible feet, until the box landed with a soft echoing 'thump' on the stone floor of the atrium.

Pushing open the old door carefully, Fred and George got out with difficulty, trying to stay under the cloak. The Atrium was dark, and completely empty. It looked different from their Father's descriptions; the golden fountain was no longer there, but neither were the statues that stood in the reign of Voldemort. Instead a large statue of a Phoenix stood alone in the centre of the room, pearly water droplets dripping softly and rhythmically from its wings. George couldn't help opening his mouth in wonder; the ceiling rose high and, even in the silence, he could imagine the noise of wizards and witches bustling round in the day.

'Lumos,' the twins whispered in unison, as the tips of their wands glowed a golden light. They shined them around the room, causing small golden beams to reflect off the polished marble surfaces.

'Is there anyone else in here?' Fred muttered under his breath, shining his wands into corners.

'I don't know,' George replied, 'there could be. I wouldn't be surprised if there was security...'

A muffled snore in a darkened corner answered George's words. Both twins' ears perked up; they couldn't be seen. With a quick look at each other, the twins rapidly fired sleeping spells in every direction. There was no time to be careful anymore, and the twins had to be as quick as possible; the department of mysteries was a risky place to visit at anytime, but especially in a situation like this.

Walking slowly along the marble tiles, George shone his wand, searching for the lifts their Father had mentioned countless times. They didn't have a map, but having a Father who had worked in the Ministry longer than they could remember did help a little.

'George?' Fred's voice called out in the darkness; the twins had taken the cloak off with the knowledge that anyone in the room was in a deep sleep, and were hunting for the lifts.

'Mhm,' George replied, spinning round and shining his wand in Fred's eyes.

'I think I've found the lifts,' he replied, blinking a little at the brightness.

George looked in the direction of Fred's wand. He was right, the lifts were standing still at the end of the atrium, their golden grilles polished and glinting. With a jab of his wand, Fred caused one of the grills to raise noisily, allowing the twins to slip in. With a loud clanging noise, the lift began to move downwards to the Department of Mysteries...


	7. Chapter 7

New chapter. I'm sorry it's been so long... I've been so busy with homework, school, eating (too much) and sleeping (not enough) But it's here now. And another random thing, the other day I had a major plot change idea, which I like, and you'll like - considering what you've been saying (and threatening) in my reviews :D

I really struggle making the story move fast, so it's gonna be a long fic, but stuff will happen, I promise :D

Pleeeease review :3 You won't believe how happy it makes me...

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><p>The lift juddered nosily down further and further, neither twin saying a word as they travelled down through the darkness. The department of mysteries was deep in the depths of the Ministry, and neither Fred or George had any idea what kind of protection would be holding it. With a final jerk, the lift stopped suddenly, looking as though they would fall into blackness if either twin stepped out.<p>

George blinked, his eyes trying to adjust to the dark place facing him, for all her knew, it could be filled with security, and lighting a wand was almost asking to be found.

'Well?' came Fred's slightly tense voice from right by George. 'Can you see anything?'

'No,' George replied distantly, taking a small breath and stepping over what he expected was the gap between the lift and the floor. 'Still nothing. It's completely black Fred.'

With several silent mutterings of pain, and several feet trod on in the dark, Fred and George extracted themselves fully from the lift and it rattled back upwards, leaving echoes bouncing round the dark.

'Fred, are you sure there's floor here?' George asked sceptically, not really putting his faith in the fact that it was unlikely for the floor to just swallow them up.

'Not really,' Fred replied, right in George's earhole, neither moving until a few seconds later. 'What the heck... We can't spend all day here... It could be morning soon at the rate we're going. I'll go first,' And with what George suspected was a bit of a grin, Fred broke into a run along the black corridor.

'Damn._ Ouch_,'

'What?' George replied suddenly, making his way steadily towards Fred. He could hear his own heartbeat racing.

'Ran into a wall,' Fred moaned, giving up in the dark and lighting his wand, and to George's relief, it was just an empty corridor. George smirked a little as his twin gave him a mock glare, both jogging down the corridor, wands lit.

It was then, and only then, that it dawned on George how stupid this plan was. They had spent ages planning to get into the ministry, and there was no promising the freaky girl was going to even be there, but then again, it meant more time with his twin. The twin that literally only came back to leave again. But maybe George was being selfish. Did he really want Fred more than his entire family? Maybe he did, but Fred would kill him for that... Even half of George wanted to hit himself for having such selfish thoughts, and Fred would never forgive him if he realised his twin was desperately trying to drag out time.

'George. Uh, George?' Fred said impatiently. Both twins had stopped, reaching a black door, and George was far too deep in his thoughts to notice.

'Yeah,' he replied, staring blankly at the door in the hope that it would just magically open. 'I see...'

Fred pointed his wand at the door and muttered under his breath. For all they knew, maybe all it needed was a simple spell.

At Fred's words, the door swung open with a loud creak, showing another dark room. Fred scowled a little. What was with all the dark corridors and rooms anyway? Shrugging slightly, both men walked in, a little wary of the fact they were possibly going to be dealing with dangerous, very dangerous types of magic.

The room that surrounded the twins was lit only by the light of their wands. Plain black doors surrounded the inside walls, although the defences did not look their best; several of the doors looked as though they had been destroyed by dark magic, maybe in the Death Eaters attempt to get the prophecy.

'Wow,' said George softly. There was something about the room, that, even if dark and plain, made it as though you could almost feel the power behind the doors.

'Wanna try a door?' Fred asked, shining the little ball of light at his wand's tip at each door in turn. There was no telling what lurked behind them.

George nodded, and walked towards a door as a loud clunk told the twins the door into the room had shut.

'Alohomora.'

Fred raised his eyebrows; even the ministry had better security than that, but he was proved wrong as the door swung open, looking as though it had seen better days.

'Merlin's chest hair. That's a LOT of glass,' Fred said in awe, looking over George's shoulder. And he was right. The room was massive, magically massive. It was as high as a cathedral, and probably as large too, and every inch of it was covered in glass; some still glinting in the airy light that lit the room, and some collecting dust fast.

'Woah,' George responded, 'someone must have been angry...'

Both twins laughed a little, images of Umbridge's tantrums playing in their minds. Evidently Kingsley hadn't bothered cleared up half of the Ministry of Magic after the war. Prophecies from thousands of years still lay smashed on a stone floor in the depths of the building.

'Going in?' Fred nudged George, both entering.

'Somehow...' George started, 'I don't think she'd be in here. What she'd be doing in a room of broken glass, I don't know.'

'Ok,' Fred replied, shining his wand around one last time and backing out. 'This one?'

As the door to the broken glass room shut, a feeble blue flame flickered on the door, the remains of something that had once been an enchantment. Choosing another door at random, Fred and George made their way through. This had been easier than they had expected so far. The twins had not really planned properly, and to even their surprise, the Ministries defences were pathetic enough to not even notice that two fully grown men, one of whom was meant to be dead ,were breaking in.

This room was another Cathedral-like one. High ceilings had obviously been the thing when the Ministry was built, because it was almost as big as the glass room. The room was dimly lit, and a large stone arch stood in the middle of the room, raised on a stone platform.

'Is it me,' Fred said slowly, 'or did everything just get colder?'

George nodded, his eyes fixed on the arch. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Fred was doing the same. It was almost hypnotic.

'Sssssssh.'

'What?' George replied.

'Can you hear it?'

George listened. He didn't know what Fred was talking about; he could hear their breathing, obviously, and the echoes of every sound they made, but nothing else. Maybe his twin could hear something he couldn't, but then, Fred had always insisted his hearing was better after George lost an ear. Almost in a trance, both twins walked up to the arch. It was just an empty, stone arch, and didn't seem too special once you got closer to it as far as George was concerned, but Fred though different.

'Voices, George, I can hear them...'

George shot a glance at Fred. What was he? Luna Lovegood? One twin did not just hear voices while the other didn't. Was this some weird kind of joke? Playing along, he replied.

'What are they saying then?'

Fred moved his head closer to the arch, so close in fact, he was almost touching it.

'A storm... the storm..'

George continued to stare. Was his twin going mental?

'Storm... coming...' Fred said eventually, standing back up to study the arch in full. 'It's hard... I can't hear inside the veil too well...'

'Veil?' George questioned; there was no veil. Just an arch.

Fred strained both ears again, his face puzzled until a look of sheer horror spread across it.

'Georgie...' Fred said slowly... 'd'you get the feeling something's happening? How can I hear the voices? How can I see the veil if you can't.'

Both twins looked at the arch, neither seeing the same thing. George knew it must be serious: the tone of his twins voice and the use of 'Georgie' must have meant something was wrong and what Fred's face looked like when he heard something did not do any help...

'I think we should get out...' they said in almost unison, looking at the arch as they walked backwards, still enchanted, but fearful of its magic. Fred was striding out of the room so fast that George almost had to run to keep up. He had obviously heard something that meant they needed to get out, and fast. Without a word, Fred swept out of the door room and back along the corridor, turning round only to check George was keeping up with him. Something must have been wrong, Fred told George everything, why not this?

A wave of relief swept over George as his wand light showed that the lift had returned. Fred was waiting by it, and protectively pushed his twin in and followed. Fred never liked questions, especially Ron's, but would always, always answer George's. Somehow this time, George got the feeling Fred would not just open up and say everything he heard at the veil.

The lift clattered through the building again, George feeling no less nervous or reassured than he did when they were making the trip the other way. The girl may not have been there, he may have his twin for a lot longer, but now Fred had heard something and was keeping secrets. George could hear the sounds of the phoenix fountain in the Atrium as the lift slowed to a stop. Knowing the guards could be awake from the sleeping spells by now, the twins crept through the room and into the phone box, Fred's face unreadable in the dark. As the second box sped silently into the muggle world, George's heart sunk a little... Maybe even Fred couldn't talk to him anymore...


	8. Chapter 8

Yeeeeeeah :D Chapter eight :D Stuff starting to happen ;)

Annabeth Black – Good that you know the answer... because even I don't know what you're talking about XD

ChocolateMnMs- Thanks for the review :D It's nice to have some motivation to write

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><p>London was in a deep sleep by the time the box surfaced in the muggle city again. The occasional group of night clubbers, often too drunk to notice anything, walked past. The twins didn't need the invisibility cloak anymore, and hadn't really planned any further than leaving the Ministry, but they needed to get properly ready if they were going to search the world, starting with every place linked to magic in the UK. And travelling wouldn't be easy either; the Ministry would notice a portkey but nobody could just apparate to a random location in Scotland. It wasn't possible.<p>

Feet leading the way, the twins walked the only familiar path, right through London, gaining several strange looks. They had left the Burrow in a similar state to how it had been before Fred had returned, although the kitchen smelt slightly more burnt now. The twins were taking themselves to the only place they knew in London; Diagon Alley. The flat above the home contained most of Fred's and some of George's stuff. They had abandoned it on Spring evening to flee from the death eaters, leaving most of their stuff behind. George wasn't sure if he had told Fred what state it was in. Last time there had been a lot of mess.

Pulling their jackets a little tighter around themselves, they approached the Leaky Cauldron, which was, was always, full of magical people and creatures. London streets may have been no problem, but this was an obstacle.

'Can I have the cloak George,' Fred said. George nodded and gave him the cloak, his mind picking apart the tone of Fred's voice. He hadn't said anything since being in that room in the Ministry, and although George had no idea what his twin heard, he could tell it wasn't anything good. Fred was always open and talkative, even after he came back. The twins could talk for hours, but George knew Fred wasn't going to start a conversation about this.

'Fred, the shop's uh, in kind of a mess,' George said, picturing the paper lying everywhere. Something inside Fred snapped a little then, breaking him out of the trance he had been in.

'Typical...' Fred sighed, 'Death eaters. Don't even clean up after themselves. Though I bet you knew that... There was a lot of rubble after that battle,' he smirked.

'Yeah,' grinned George, glad that Fred had responded. 'Filch is probably still sweeping...'

Fred's own face broke into a grin at that thought. 'Serves him right though... shame I can't be there to see it instead of off chasing up some teenage girl.'

Both twins laughed at that statement before Fred pulled a more serious face.

'Angelina,' Fred started with a slight frown. 'Did she, uh, mention anything about me?'

George cast his mind back, smirking a little at the fact Fred was so concerned about girls, something he would be badly teased for.

'I don't know,' he replied, 'she came to your, you know, but I didn't speak to her, I didn't speak to anyone.'

Fred nodded, muttering something darkly under his breath, but stopping there, as they had reached the shop. With the correct wand movements, George opened the door, and walked in, glad he was first as not to see Fred's reaction.

'Those... little...,' Fred swore darkly, still angry about Angelina with the matter of a destroyed shop on top.

'Well, we won't be here long,' George added, making his way to the stairs that led to the flat.

'How the hell d'you get to Scotland anyway?' Fred asked, racing George up the stairs. George shrugged. Neither of the twins was really good at the whole planning thing.

'Portkey...' he suggested half-heartedly... 'Alicia Spinnet works in that part of the Ministry, maybe we could ask her.'

'Correction,' Fred winked, 'you could ask her.'

George gave Fred a playful shove.

'Sixth year, sixth year Fred. You really think I still like her? And anyway, you're one to talk, who was complaining about a certain Angelina three seconds ago.'

A full scale shoving war could have erupted except for the fact the flat door was now open, and Fred was gaping in at the sea of paper that even George could have sworn had grown since his last visit.

'I see your point,' he laughed slightly, trying and failing to resist his temptation to jump right into the paper.

After several immature minutes of a paper fight, George grasped his maturity back for a minute to speak.

'Pack Fred, we really can't stay long here... people will notice the amount of noise you're making.'

Fred sighed, dropping his paper snowman and, yawning loudly, making his way over to the flat's only bedroom the twins shared. The bedroom was a wreck, but less than the living room. The hammocks Fred and George slept on were slightly ripped, but the twins packed them anyway, along with all their clothes, blankets, and brooms. The tent the twins had once purchased with their money from the shop was packed, unused and waiting. But packing was the easy part. Planning was important, but neither twin wanted to. George was easily distracted, and Fred was extremely restless. Eventually, after some decision, Fred and George put the hammocks back up. If they were going to get a portkey, they'd have to stay for at least a short while, and George had eventually given in and agreed to Fred's idea of going to Alicia.

'You have to look the part too,' Fred yawned, lying in his hammock. If they had to plan, it would be last thing at night when they were too tired to do anything else.

'What do you mean?' came the response. 'I do look like me.'

'Like normal you, you need to look like the George that hasn't seen me for however many weeks,' Fred replied.

'Oh, yeah. Which means you'll need to hide too; we can't let Alicia in on the plan. I will look the part if I don't get any sleep, which is going to happen at the rate your going,' George said, looking at Fred's face which was, although tired, alert.

'Good idea,' Fred said thoughtfully. 'I'll make you some coffee,' and with a grin, he leapt out of his hammock, George following slowly.

Several hours later, Fred fell asleep on the table, not having any coffee himself. George, six espressos more awake than his twin, shook himself. He still hadn't recovered from the sleepless nights after Fred's death. They may have been twins, but Fred and George slept very differently. Fred kicked and shouted in his sleep, yet George always lay still, and managed to sleep through. Mrs Weasley always said that George could sleep through and earthquake, and he guessed she was right. But this night in particular, Fred was different. He wasn't shouting, but muttering, which worried his twin a little. Now that there was nothing to talk about or focus on, the mystery of the archway and the voices Fred heard came back hauntingly. Before long, Fred was starting to talk in his sleep.

'Closer... come... closer... archway.'

George jumped, the mention of the archway waking him more than all the coffee. It disconcerted him slightly, Fred hearing that stuff and instantly wanting to get away. Closer to the archway? But Fred had practically been touching it.

'Storm... coming.'

It was the storm again. Fred had mentioned something about the storm back in the room.

'What storm?' George spoke out loud, with the slightest hope Fred would maybe respond, but to his disappointment, his brother just gave a louder snore and stopped the talking altogether.


	9. Chapter 9

Yeeeeaaah :D Chapter 9.

IN YOUR FACE WRITERS BLOCK ... :3

Thanks again for the reviews, and if you're anything like me, you're not not even reading this bit, so whatever :P

And if anyone can tell me why I've called Alicia's brothers those names, you win an eternal supply of virtual cookies and brownies for being as much of a geek as me ;)

Hope you likey ;)

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><p>Rain poured heavily the next morning, as a red-eyed, sleep deprived George Weasley stood outside the red door, Fred next to him, concealed under a trusty invisibility cloak. The muggle street was almost deserted, with the exception of an occasional car or dog-walker, but George realised that standing there any longer would draw a lot of unwanted attention. With a look at his invisible twin, he knocked sharply on the door as Fred dived behind a bush.<p>

Noise sounded inside, the sound of people running up and down the stairs while others yelled back and forth. It sounded just like The Burrow on a quiet day. George would have tried to get rid of the memory, but every sad thought made the thing look a whole lot more real.

Suddenly, the door opened, a little too fast, and George found himself facing something that came as a bit of a shock. Only the quiet hiss from Fred stopped George exclaiming out loud as the door opened to, not the short, blonde woman he had expected, but two men, rather a lot taller than him, who were completely identical.

'Who is it guys?' called a familiar voice from the top of the stairs. A little part of George sighed with relief. At least they had the right house.

'I dunno,' one of the twins replied, as they both looked George up and down curiously.

'He's ginger,' the other one shouted rather unhelpfully,

'-about six foot-'

'-and with only one ear...' one finished, with a slight smirk. Why had Alicia never said she had brothers? Or whoever they were...

The ear thing was the trigger though, with a slight scream, and a muffled sob, Alicia came flying down the stairs, half dressed for work.

'Move,' she muttered, glaring at the boys, who shrunk a little despite the way they towered over her. 'George, oh George,' she sniffed, a tear leaking from her eye.

George was doing all he could not to laugh, cry and gaze in wonder at the way Alicia was having a slight breakdown in front of him, but he had to accept he was supposed be used to this given the situation he was meant to be in.

'Yeah.. hi,' he croaked, deliberately hoarse.

'I'm sorry,' Alicia burst out, dragging him in by the arm. 'These are the twins,' she said, 'my twins... Callum and Finlay.'

Upon realisation of George's identity, both Callum and Finlay stopped staring and back away a little, after all, they'd probably even been at Fred's funeral, and being twins in front of a man who'd just lost his twin wasn't the best thing.

'How are you? You look so... ill... I'm sorry George, what can I do?' Alicia burst out at once, looking as though she wanted nothing more than to crumple up on George's shoulder and cry. George reckoned he should probably look the same. With a small movement, he gave Alicia's brothers a rather pointed glare, as though signalling them to leave the room.

'Guys...' Alicia said, shunting them along the corridor and up the stairs, 'go, I need to talk to George.'

She led the twin into a room that definitely didn't belong in a muggle house, for it was filled with cauldrons, spellbooks and broken wands. Sitting him down as his own mother had done after the Weasleys had returned from the battle, Alicia Spinnet summoned a teapot and what looked like week's worth of food, after scrutinising George and deciding he was too thin. But he really didn't have time to pretend he was interested in food, and headed straight to the point.

'I need,' he started, making her jump, 'a portkey...'

Alicia stared, looking unsure of whether she had just imagined the words leaving George's mouth.

'A-are you sure? A portkey? You need to go home George, you need to eat, and sleep, not go off gallivanting in some foreign country...' she trailed.

George sighed, he couldn't say he hadn't been expecting it. Women could be like that, fussing over you and not actually realising what you need. George gave her such a Weasley-esque glare that she recoiled a little.

'B-but where?' Alicia now looked on the verge of tears again.

Trying very hard to be patient with the woman, George casted his mind back to the planning with Fred. Scotland, they had decided, Scotland to start with.

'Scotland...'

Thankfully, Alicia seemed to find some hidden meaning in George's need to go North, and nodded slowly.

'I – really... well... I'll see,' she began, as George suppressed a slight grin. Maybe his acting was great, or she was very easily persuaded, but, whatever it was, they got to Scotland. It was when George remembered the reason of the trip to Scotland that his heart sank again, and Alicia probably saw this, because she took his slightly open mouth as an opportunity to fill it with a large spoon of hot soup.

'Eat it all,' she commanded, getting up and pulling her wand out. 'Or no portkey.'

George gave a fake sigh and started spooning the liquid into his mouth. He could have told Alicia everything, she may have given him the portkey anyway, along with extra advice, but on the other hand, knowing the way she had treated George, she would probably go straight to the Ministry, and that meant trouble.

The twins appeared back downstairs a few moments later, not speaking as they watched their older sister pottering round the house and George eating. It was weird, he had never met them, or heard about them before, but they looked right as a pair, as though one of them would just look weird on their own. Maybe he and Fred looked like that to strangers too, but they probably didn't freak people out the way these twins did to George. Their tall, lean figures and the way they started intimidated him a little, although he'd never admit it to anyone, he always felt a lot more defenceless without Fred next to him.

'Callum, Finlay,' came Alicia's voice as she appeared again, holding an old toothbrush. 'I said to leave him alone,' and as she handed George the portkey, the twins skulked off again. 'It's going to leave tonight, if that's ok. 10.30.'

George nodded, getting up to leave.

'Thanks,' he muttered.

'No problem,' Alicia smiled slightly, 'but be careful, won't you? And looking as though she had been trying to stop herself ever since he walked in, Alicia stood on her toes and gave George a kiss on the cheek, opening the front door again.

George smirked in satisfaction a little as the door shut with a click, and as he tucked the toothbrush into a coat pocket, his twin emerged from the invisibility cloak, joining George's walk down the garden path.

'I saw that,' Fred winked, poking George in the ribs, ' she kissed you, I saw.'

George poked Fred back in retaliation, rolling his eyes at the childish reaction. 'How did you?'

'Aaaah. Fred Weasley never misses a trick,' Fred replied, almost as though they were twelve again.

A flash of blonde and a scream that was audible even through the windows caused both twins to jump that moment. Alicia had seen something. She had seen Fred.


	10. Chapter 10

Le New Chapter :D Thankyou thankyou thankyou for all the reviews :3 You don't know how happy it makes when I get an email saying 'new review' :3

Well done to chocolateMnMs and Feltbomb – for getting the Callum and Finlay thing (James and Oliver Phelps/Fred and George played twins called Callum and Finlay on a TV show once) *hands virtual cookies and brownies*  
>So, yeah, usual nag you're not even reading, but please pleaaaaase review, even if it's just to say you're a reader... I would kinda like to know how many people are actually reading it.<br>And to my regular readers/reviewers – YOU ARE AWESOME :D *gives cookies*

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><p>It was several minutes later that Fred and George stopped running; Fred clutching his side with a bad stitch. Without even thinking completely, the twins grabbed each other and spun, apparating into the first place in George's head. With a slight crunch of leaves underfoot, both me appeared in a deserted forest. The portkey wasn't much use now. Alicia had seen Fred. It was up. If they didn't think fast, the Ministry would be involved, Fred would be dead and George could possible even be in Azkaban by now. Alicia would have leapt out of the house, chasing the twins until deciding they'd apparated, and then heading straight for someone who could track them down. Ministry workers would be appearing at The Burrow and the shop in no time, and the rest of the Weasleys would be officially declared missing. Both twins prayed that they had left no trace of themselves at the houses, but burnt food littering the table of The Burrow and all their clothes missing wasn't promising. The game was up unless they thought fast.<p>

Taking a quick glance around to ensure they quite alone, Fred flopped onto the leafy ground of the forest, gazing up at the trees as every swear he ever knew leaked from his mouth.

'She saw us. She SAW us...'

George sat down opposite his twin, noticing how ashamed of himself Fred was. True, it was a stupid mistake to take off the cloak within eyeshot, but anyone could have made the mistake. If the twins had explained to Alicia, they may have persuaded her to keep the secret, but the look of shock on her face when she saw Fred with George was the same look as someone who would go straight to the ministry.

Sitting down a little way from his twin, who was still either moaning in despair or plotting something else, George considered his options. They were going to have to keep going; but in a lot more secret. Fred's appearance would probably be linked to the break-in in the Department of Mysteries. When Fred did leave again – George shuddered a little – he'd have to come up with some story anyway. Hopefully, Kingsley, the new minister, would not be too harsh with George, but after Fred had reacted to what he had done, that was just a mere hope.

'Sorry...' Fred trailed off eventually, making George jump right out of his skin at the sound of a human voice.

George shrugged.

'Don't worry,' he smiled, 'we all mess up. I'm king of that,'

Fred smirked a little, nodding ever so slightly.

'and, anyway, we weren't exactly planning on storming through Scotland making loads of noise, trying to get people to notice us before she spotted you.'

'Yeah,' Fred replied, 'but I was thinking, what if wherever the portkey would have taken us is where freaky-girl actually is? We really need to go there...'

George shook his head. That was the second-to-last (after their homes) place they were going for a long time. 'That's what they want, anyway, stop complaining. Longer it takes, the more time with me.'

Fred nodded slightly sadly. 'Yeah. You're right. I hardly want to turn into Percy, wallowing in self-pity – look what good that did to him. Not much,' he snorted, getting up and inspecting the trees as though they were actually interesting. 'We gonna stay here?'

'Whatever,' George replied. Forests all seemed the same to him, but both him and Fred were going to have to get used to them; forests were always good hiding places.

It took several confused minutes and a lot of failed attempts to put up the tent, which, brand new in forest of gnarled, ageing trees, looked quite out of place and was a very big giveaway, but neither Fred or George couldn't say they didn't appreciate the fact that there was something warm they could spend the night in.

The tent was larger than they needed, but it was nice having space. Like all wizarding tents, it was a lot larger on the inside and was rather nice, for a tent. For some reason neither twin knew, the tent they had chosen was one with five beds, when they only needed two, but, as George had mentioned, you never knew when a spare bed would come in handy.

'All we need now,' Fred said thoughtfully, sinking into the large red sofa in the centre of the tent, 'Is some food. Some proper decent food.'

George couldn't help but laugh out loud at this demand. Neither twin could cook to save their life, and had been living off burnt toast for the past few days, and just because they were in the middle of a forest now, not the Burrow, it only made it less likely they'd manage to concoct something edible.

'Sure,' he grinned, sitting down next to Fred, 'I'll just go out and get a load of food from inside a tree or something, and you can make some pastry and turn it into a pie, as we are so skilled at doing so.'

'Well,' retorted Fred, chuckling, 'At least Ron the eating machine isn't here – he'd probably dying of lack of food or something really stupid.' It had to be said, Ron couldn't, and wouldn't go two days without a decent meal for lunch, breakfast and dinner. He couldn't cook to save his life either, but would be extremely grumpy without food, as George had learnt from Harry's tales after the battle.

'It must be weird...' George began, a more serious thought occurring.

'What?'

'Where d'you think Mum, Dad and everyone actually are? Do you think they know why they're not here?' He finished, a little guiltily.

Fred shrugged blankly.

'No clue. I mean, I had no idea of anything until I suddenly looked up and there was The Burrow. Bit annoying really... I was just about to go and talk to a group of Veela cousins that didn't make it either,' he winked, 'and next thing I know, I'm standing in some bloody field in England.' Fred yawned, getting up from the sofa and walking over to one of the beds, George following. 'Not that I'm complaining too much,' he carried on, 'yeah, it's cold, yeah I miss those girls up in heaven, but when the only part of you to talk to is that ear, It gets boring.'

George grinned, moving his hand absently to what Fred called his 'what-once-was-an-ear-hole'. That had been one weird night, being Harry, almost being killed by your own potions teacher, but at least it worked. Sort of. As though Fred had read his mind, he burst out; 'yeah. Of Course the seven Harrys worked, what with Mad-eye and your ear.'

George blinked. Fred did that a lot, almost read George's mind, and George did it too. According to Luna Lovegood, they shared some kind of 'bond' and could see the thoughts in each others' eyes. George hadn't mentioned it at the time – he'd been rather busy shutting himself in his bedroom – but to him that sounded like a load of utter rubbish. They had always done it, but this was definitely the first time since Fred coming back that it had happened, and for some reason that shook.

Both twins changed out of their day clothes in silence – not awkward silence – but peaceful, but there was the slightest trace of tenseness in the air. Fred had suggested that evening that, like Harry, Ron and Hermione, one of the twins acted as a lookout. Alicia couldn't find them on her own, but there were no promises the Ministry couldn't. They'd destroyed the portkey completely, and after a lot of discussion, decided they were too tired to lookout, and just protected the tent with several spells.

Shivering in the cold breeze that fluttered around and in the tent, George pulled the thin blanket that covered his bed up to his head and lay back, sighing sleepily. 'We need to move tomorrow,' he yawned.

'I know...' came an identical voice, 'night George.'

'Night,' and with a flick of his wand, George turned the light filling the tent out, drowning the place in darkness.


	11. Chapter 11

Blehblehbleh. You're not even reading this bit. Blehblehbleh. Please review :3

Ok... THIS is the right chapter...

Sorry about my FAIL FAIL FAIL

Yeah... thanks for pointing it out... I'm gonna go headdesk for 5 hours straight...

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><p>The next morning started early; stupidly early. It was barely 6 am when the sun's light got so strong it woke both twins. Birds sang outside in the forest as Fred and George moaned sleepily. They had wanted to get away soon, but waking at what felt like the crack of dawn was just stupid.<p>

'Bloody birds...' George grumbled, kicking the corner of blanket that had actually remained on his bed right off. Fred nodded, tossing his blanket off with an equal movement. It was a well known fact that both twins kicked like mad in their sleep from time to time, and Lee Jordan, who had shared a dormitory with both for seven years, never understood how they stayed asleep; he was the one awoken every night by the thrashing and sleep talking. Shaking his head like a dog emerging from water, George made his way cautiously to the small oven in the kitchen section of the tent; after a long sleep, he was extremely hungry: hungry enough to put up with his cooking skills if it meant some form of food.

'Pancakes,' he grinned, looking as though he were eight again as Fred ran over to search his backpack for food. 'What's actually in them?'

'Dunno,' shrugged Fred, rummaging in the large bag. 'Sugar? Flour? Butter?'

'Probably,' George nodded, catching each of the ingredients his twin threw to him. 'Doesn't Mum usually include lemons?'

'And where the heck am I supposed to get one of those?'

'Uh. Use an orange instead. They're similar enough...'

'Peanut butter, eggs,' Fred continued, throwing a jar and a load of raw eggs randomly behind him, causing the ones George didn't catch to smash onto the floor, 'ah well... I don't really like eggs anyway...'

A very messy, eggy, sticky ten minutes later, both twins admitted defeat. Pancakes were impossible. So, after 'cleaning up' Fred and George dug a box of cereal out of George's backpack and dug in hungrily, completely forgetting they really needed to move on, as the longer they stayed in one place, the closer the Ministry would get to finding them.

'George. We need to move. 'Cause those evil gits at the Ministry are probably tracking us right now,'

George snorted, 'They won't find us, they didn't find Sirius easily, but I have to admit, these trees are really boring me...'

Throwing the remains of the cornflakes outside the tent for the non-existent birds to eat, George shoved everything randomly into his and Fred's bags, whilst Fred walked round the tent, pretending he knew what he was meant to be doing as he plucked tent pegs out of the soil whilst whistling absently to himself. George smirked, knowing the similarity between him and Fred, he probably did it too, but the way Fred whistled reminded him of Arthur a lot. It was weird, having the family gone. Even when they lived in the flat above their shop, the twins saw their family most days, mainly just so they could have a decent meal, but nevertheless, they saw them. It seemed Fred's plan to keep George's mind busy and distracted from the fact the only reason they were camping in the middle of some woods was so they could return Fred to being dead and get the Weasleys back , but the efforts obviously weren't enough, as every moment George's thoughts would linger back to the real reason, and he would want to hang back.

'Forge!' Fred yelled eventually, as a warning he was about to collapse the tent, 'get out. I'm not carrying you in my backpack.'

It took a while for Fred and George actually to leave. Once the tent had finally been packed, there was the matter of _where_ they were actually going, which neither twin had thought of. Anywhere with people was out of the question; people could easily mean wizards and what seemed like half the wizarding population of England worked for the Ministry, so, much to the slight disappointment of both of them, they had to settle for another place in the countryside, which, while in George words was 'more boring than double History of Magic,' it was at least safe. Then there was the actual part choosing which boring trees they were going to visit, and with the twins' geography skills, they were struggling to find anything less vague than 'that forest with the really tall trees.' Eventually, they managed to come up with somewhere that Ron had mentioned; the Forest of Dean, which would be ok if Harry and the others had managed to keep hidden in it.

Apparating whilst holding onto each other, as Fred and George always did nowadays, they slung their backpacks onto their shoulders and spun, hoping they wouldn't end up in limbo or anything.

With a slippery sound of two grown men being chucked down onto a bed of wet leaves, the twins landed.

'Well done Fred,' George said sarcastically, not bothering to get up from the forest floor. 'With your great apparating skills and my ability to trust girls who practically have 'evil' written across their foreheads we could rule the world someday...'

'Sure thing. And not to mention our culinary skills. We could put Jamie whatshisname to shame.'

'Yeah. We should have asked Hermione to send him some of our pancakes. If she wasn't gallivanting off to Australia, that is.'

The chat went on like this for a while, until the twins actually bothered to get up off the ground and 'fixed' the tent up, and by then it was almost dark and both Fred and George really couldn't be bothered to do anything but sleep.

'You realise,' Fred began, adjusting his pillows, 'we actually need to start _looking _for her tomorrow.'

George laughed. That was a bit of a failure; making pancakes wouldn't exactly looking for someone. Not that he wanted to, but Fred was going to insist, and he couldn't be bothered to argue.

Outside the tent, an owl hooted in the distance while the sound of Fred's yawning filled the tent too, both twins unable to think straight enough to speak, and falling asleep, Fred still muttering about storms...


	12. Chapter 12

In answer to questions: Yeah, i'm still alive. Yeah, i'm still writing. Yeah I'm forgetful as heck, and yeah, I do like bagels.

I'm sorry for the wait...

Pwease review ;)

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><p>'Huh? What?'<p>

George had awoken with a start in the middle of the night. Poking his head over the mess of blankets he was under, he looked around the tent with a bleary eye. It was completely dark except for the moonlight silhouetting a tree onto the canvas wall, and Fred was still snoring loudly in his sleep from the bed next to George's. It couldn't have been him that had woken George, but it was definitely something.

His remaining ear perked up, George jumped slightly at a sound from outside the tent. He was used to the rustle of leaves, crickets, birds and the occasional badger or fox, but this was a different noise. It sounded, if anything, human. This worried him a bit, random muggles didn't just make noises in forests in the middle of the night... what if the ministry had tracked the twins down somehow?

The noise sounded again, like a whisper, very quiet but surely human. He sighed, something was definitely out there, and it wasn't just George's imagination. Taking a quick look around the tent, George jabbed his snoring twin in the ribs to wake him. He could deal with the noise on his own, but Fred would never be able to forgive him if it was Ministry people...

Several jabs and nudges later, Fred finally stirred, mumbling grumpily.

'What?' he moaned, sitting up, 'are you mental George? It's the middle of the bloody night...'

'Someone's out there,' George muttered, trying not to be too loud or dramatic.

'And...' Fred replied, looking as though he wanted nothing more than to sink back into his pillow, 'it was probably just a squirrel George.'

George glared. 'Squirrels don't whisper in English, Fred.'

That phrase was obviously good enough.

Wands lit, the twins poked their heads out of the tent's excuse for a door, their faces getting used to the moonlight and the cold air.

'Hello?' George said quietly, sticking a slippered foot out of the tent, 'anyone there?'

Fred was on the verge of rolling his eyes when a response came, causing both of the Weasleys to almost literally jump out of their skins, despite how quiet it was.

'Y-yes. Who is it?'

'Us,' Fred said distractedly, following his twin out of the tent and round the back... 'Uh, where are you?'

With a crunch of leaves, George saw a smallish dark figure get up from beside a tree, and walk over to them. It was definitely a human alright, and by their size, probably a child. With a look at each other, George opened his mouth.

'Are you ok? Do you want to come into the tent with us?' He began. So the chance that this person was magical was minimal, so Fred and George would be unable to use magic, but after they'd seen the inside of the tent, they would have to bloviate them anyway, and they couldn't exactly tell them to stay outside in the cold. That was inhumane.

'Well...' they began '...it can't hurt, I guess.'

The three figures, two towering over the other, walked back to the tent, trying to be as quiet as possible despite the fact there was nobody else out there to hear them. George reckoned it was something about the night that made them tiptoe into the canvas rather than walk in normally.

George showed the person a seat, and Fred lit the small tent lights with his wand. The gloom faded, the tent now a pale golden colour inside. Once it spread to the figure's face, George gaped slightly. He figured it would be someone female from the voice, but someone a little older than... well... however old she was. Her eyes had the bloodshot look of someone who had been crying and hadn't slept for weeks. Her frizzy brown hair was greasy and matted, making her look like a younger, more tired, and slightly prettier version of Hermione. The twins offered her a chair, which she sat in, and they flopped onto the sofa, facing her.

After a few slightly awkward seconds of silence, Fred spoke up.  
>'What's your name?'<p>

Of all the questions George would've asked, that would have been pretty low on the list, certainly after 'why the heck are you hiding in a forest?' and 'how come you didn't react to our magic tent.'  
>'Cassie,' she replied, 'well, actually Cassandra... but Cassie's fine...'<br>Fred and George exchanged looks. Who in their right mind named their child Cassie?  
>'What's your surname Cassie?' George asked coaxingly, trying to stay patient and alert despite the constant yawns he felt coming on.<br>She shrugged, making it quite obvious she wasn't going to tell them for a while.  
>George gave Fred a look, the kind of look that said 'she's gonna be a stubborn one' and Fred half nodded, surveying Cassie.<br>'And why are you here?' he asked, 'don't you want to be with your parents?' he said, lowering his voice a little as if it were a taboo subject.  
>The look on Cassie's face was enough to make both Weasleys feel a little guilty for asking. It was kind of obvious she didn't want to answer, but eventually forced herself to.<br>'They're – they're dead...'  
>George frowned, not wanting to say anything or having any response – nothing was helpful for the week that he lived without Fred, but Cassie seemed pretty strong, especially for a twelve-ish year old. But his head was literally bursting with questions.<br>'I'm sorry...' Fred began, but she shook her head.  
>'Don't be... they died for a good reason.'<br>Seeing the no longer polite, but just plain curious faces of the twins, she continued without a prompt.  
>'My parents fought in the battle of Hogwarts – they weren't aurors, but they were against all the pureblood stuff. My brother went too... and they were killed by Death Eaters. I had to go, I was only a first year, so they shunted me into Hogsmeade before I...' she trailed off, and the twins knew to ask no more.<br>'What house were – are you in? And shouldn't you be at school,' George piped up, lamely attempting to change the subject.  
>'Ravenclaw,' she nodded, 'I was meant to stay with my grandparents, but I ran away,' she smirked ever so slightly, 'I'm not sticking with them and listening to their 'comforting' words,' Cassie added darkly.<br>'Woah,' Fred said softly. 'Thank Merlin you're magic,' he laughed shakily.  
>'Yeah, but I'm not much good at it... or anything.'<br>'Don't be ridiculous,' George retorted, 'the hat put you in Ravenclaw, brain box,' he winked, but Cassie ignored it.

'So now I've told you my story,' she said, 'you can tell me yours...'  
>Fred opened his mouth as if to say that was bribery, and they didn't have to say a word, but George answered.<br>'Long story,' he chuckled for a second. 'I'll sum it up,' he said, and Cassie nodded, 'Well... this is harder than I thought, but I also fought in the battle. With Fred,' he gestured at his twin, who was now tearing apart George's rucksack in apparent search for something, 'and my family, and Fred... well... you get the picture,' he swallowed, Fred looked up and smiled slightly sympathetically at his twin. 'I, well, spent a week at home, and went out to the forest. Where I met some weird girl,' Cassie raised an eyebrow, 'and she... well... told me I could swap something to get Fred back. Which I didn't realise was my entire family'  
>'You what?' she asked, giving him a patronising look.<br>'Yeah, that's what Fred's reaction was to start with, but he saw sense.' George grinned at Fred, who was still digging through his bag, 'We're now looking for her... to swap back,' his face fell, remembering he'd still not thought up a plan to keep Fred yet. 'And the ministry are on our tails,' he finished awkwardly.  
>'Idiot,' Cassie said absently, but not in a cruel way.<p>

'I know,' he sighed... 'but whatever. And what the heck are you looking for Fred. In my rucksack?'  
>'Oh, nothing,' Fred grinned evilly.<br>'What...' George growled.  
>'Just wondering what I say in my sleep. I know you write it down...'<br>George blinked. The little sneak, but it was very hard to keep secrets from your twin, and if he sleeptalked, he would've wanted to know what he muttered about in his sleep.  
>'Aha,' Fred grinned, finally pulling out the loose sheet of parchment, with George's messy writing on it. 'A storm is coming...?' he puzzled, 'what does that mean?'<br>George shrugged, 'no idea. You say it a lot. You've been sleep talking a stupid amount since the ministry trip.'  
>Fred raised his arms and wandered round, pretending to be a sleepwalker. 'A storm is coming,' he muttered in a monotone mock-serious voice, as George laughed.<br>Cassie, however, frowned. 'A storm you say,' she looked more alarmed than confused. 'Sure you heard that right?'  
>'No.' George said very sarcastically, 'he actually said salad, he's deadly afraid of salad... Yes, he said storm. Why?'<br>'Oh, no reason,' she replied, eyeing Fred as he dropped the sleepwalker-zombie act, but she didn't seem reassured by that answer.


	13. Chapter 13

Hai :3 *yawns*

I'm sorry it takes me so long to write... I have school and homework and all sorts of other random day to day rubbish getting in the way of my writing, but i'm not giving up. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and please, please review. I like to know who's actually reading my story...

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><p>After protests and 'polite' on the point of fierce arguments that night, Cassie agreed to stay in the tent with the twins, after all, they had spare room and she – as George put it – 'would die of some kind of pneumonia or be ripped apart by wild wolves if she stayed outside.' However, it did make the tent seem a lot more crowded and smaller. Not that she took up much room, but the twins could no longer leave their stuff around the tent, and they had to attempt to cook food rather than eat lukewarm baked beans straight out of the tin. Something about having a girl around also made the tent a lot tidier and more home-like, but George appreciated that. They also figured they needed to keep moving; with Cassie they would probably be a lot easier to find, and would have more people looking for them too. And George reckoned that someone in the Ministry with an actual brain may pin the pieces together and work out the three were all travelling with each other.<p>

'Where we gonna go today?' Cassie yawned, picking fluff off her sock as she cooked porridge – another thing both Fred and George were entirely grateful for.  
>'Another group of same-ish trees with random wildlife and no muggles.' George said from his bed, not even bothering to open his eyes.<br>Cassie rolled her eyes at the twins, extremely bossy despite the fact she was eight years younger than them. 'Yeah, because that's really gonna help us find the freaky girl. Look, you two, you can't just keep moving round, life isn't one big camping trip, you have to actually find her and... swap back. I know it's hard,' she threw a look at George, who was now getting blearily out of bed, 'but what about the rest of your family, they're effectively dead.'  
>George had to admit, she had a point. They hadn't exactly been looking, unless you counted the occasional peek out of the tent doors looking. But, on the other hand, George wasn't too keen. When they found the girl, he'd have to relive Fred's death. He, in fact, was the one who kept putting off the search, making excuses whenever Fred half-suggested something, but neither twin has hugely keen, the only thing spurring them on was the fact the other Weasleys were possibly trapped in limbo. But now he was getting the guilty treatment he probably deserved. And it wasn't fun. He lowered his voice as Fred stepped out the tent for a breath of air.<br>'You really think I want to go looking for someone who will kill my twin all over again?' he snarled, lowering his voice.  
>Cassie blinked.<br>'Well, you're being pretty selfish, see. Your family are dead right now, and it's your fault.'  
>'Oh, now I'm selfish, am I? You wouldn't understand anyway... you don't have a twin.' George replied, his temper rising. Had Cassie been his size and age, and not a girl, he would've hit her by now.<br>'Well, maybe I don't, because from what I can see, you're just moping around, trying to keep him as long as possible.'  
>'And can you blame me? Really?' George scowled, standing up and using his height to his advantage. He could feel his heartbeat speeding up and his ear going red with anger. But before anything else could be said, Fred walked back in, shivering due to the fact he was only wearing shorts and a t-shirt.<br>'It's cold out the- What's going on?' He asked, seeing his angry twin and Cassie's matter-of-fact look. George opened his mouth, trying to think of something to say, but she spoke first.  
>'I was just saying it was time you started doing what you're here for, looking for that girl...'<br>Fred's face fell and he sunk into a chair, looking stressed and upset.  
>'I guess you're right...' he looked at George, who was now sat back down in the chair opposite him. Fred looked sadly round the tent. 'I shouldn't get... too used to being alive again...'<p>

George closed his eyes and let out a short sigh. The thought was always there, but it never really sunk in... Not in daytime anyway, but nobody had to see how he was when he lay awake each night. He was used to living with Fred again. He'd only spent one week away from him in his life, and that was the worst week he'd ever experienced. It was times like these that George was tempted to beg the freaky girl to die with Fred. In fact, he considered it every night, thinking that maybe it'd be the best for everyone.

Cassie made a small 'oh' noise, the kind someone made when they suddenly realised something for the first time. Fred looked up, but George kept his eyes shut, trying to block her out.  
>'Oh... oh. I've had an idea.'<br>'What?' Fred asked, eyes flickering between Cassie and his twin.  
>'I've had an idea... It's totally bonkers... never going to work,' she trailed off, talking to herself, 'but I guess it might be worth a shot... I mean, there's not much to loose... if it works, we'll gain, but if it doesn't... well... there could be trouble.'<br>George opened his eyes to see Fred roll his.  
>'Well, if you're ever going to tell us...'<br>'It came from the idea of how all this happened in the first place...'  
>Something inside of George snapped. Fred obviously hadn't got her idea, but he was sure he had. It was mental, totally mental, and Fred would probably disagree point blank to start with, but he'd be able to persuade him, somehow. He had to hand it to her though, if he was right, it was genius, complete genius though sounded terrible when he thought about it. A drop of rain fell against the canvas, and Cassie started to speak again, sounding like she was bursting to say it all at once.<br>'We do a swap, I polyjuice as you,' she nodded at Fred, who was gazing intently at her, 'and I pretend to be you when we find her... you hide with George and I die, you get your family back, and,' she looked at George, 'Fred can stay.'

'No. No way am I letting you die in my place. That's... that's insane.'  
>Fred got up, his arms folded stubbornly. 'I can't just kill you, you're twelve years old, you don't understand anything.'<br>Cassie, who had remained fairly calm up until now, stood up, her own arms folded as she raised her head to look at Fred's. George narrowed his eyes slightly, his head buzzing with thoughts as he tried to watch the conversation which could easily become an argument.  
>'One,' Cassie said firmly, 'I don't have any family left. You think I'd rather be here than with my brother and my parents? Well, you're wrong. Two, I might not understand everything, but I know for sure that this is your best hope. And three, he,' she pointed at George, 'probably likes my idea.'<br>Both pairs of eyes looked at George, Cassie's trying to send him silent messages, Fred's confused and slightly accusative.  
>'Well?' He asked, 'Do you agree with her or not?'<p>

This was the guilty treatment Fred owed him. All of George wanted to scream yes, he could keep his twin and get rid of a girl he had barely known for five minutes, who apparently seemed willing to go through all this. But he knew if he did, it would sound terrible. Fred would despise him forever. He gazed into the corner of the tent.  
>'Cassie, can you go outside for a second... Fred and I need to discuss.'<br>Cassie leapt out of the tent, snatching up an umbrella as she went. The rain was now hammering loud enough for George not to worry about being overheard.

'Fred,' he said finally, 'this is a... great opportunity.'  
>'Is that what you see it as?' His twin asked, their eyes piercing each others' 'she's just any old piece of meat we can kill.'<br>'No...' George couldn't explain, 'Fred... I'd go to any measure to make sure you could live... that's human nature, and she's literally offering...'  
>Fred scowled, 'that's just selfish George,' he lowered his voice, speaking so quietly George could only just hear. 'But I agree too.'<p> 


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